


Yes, Sir

by NarcissisticNarwhal



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bottom Hwang Hyunjin, Choking, Degradation, Dom/sub, Dumbification, Hair Pulling, M/M, Maid!Hyunjin, Master/Servant, PWP, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub!Hyunjin, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, Young Master!Minho, dom!Minho, face fucking, this is just filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:46:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarcissisticNarwhal/pseuds/NarcissisticNarwhal
Summary: “You did an excellent job at preparing the tea,” his master compliments, “for a dumb little whore.”The previously gentle hand catches a fistful of his hair, forcing Hyunjin’s head back painfully and finally he looks his master in the eye. A whimper dies in his throat as Lee Minho glares down at him derisively. His master continues to pull at his hair and Hyunjin follows until he is kneeling at Minho’s feet, hand braced on the floor behind him.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 9
Kudos: 223





	Yes, Sir

Hyunjin sets the tray down on the hall table. There’s a mirror hanging on the wall behind it, so he takes a moment to double check his appearance. He knows that his master loves it when he looks nice and neat. He smoothes a hand down the front of his skirt and apron, the frills tickling his fingertips. Once that looks perfect, fabric falling to a neat line across his thighs, he straightens the silky fabric clasped around his neck. The little bow in front is slightly crooked and that certainly won’t do. He runs his hands through his long hair, careful to avoid the lacy headband. It’s been painstakingly styled to look effortlessly wavy and light and just slightly wet, his master’s favorite. Leaning down, he pulls up his leggings just one more inch, the thin fabric straining against his thighs. Double checking that the garters are clasped properly and twirling one lock of hair to hang just over his eyes, Hyunjin takes a deep breath and picks the tray back up.

“Sir, I’ve brought your evening snack,” he announces, rapping on the door lightly.

“Come in,” an even voice calls from the other side of the dark wood.

Hyunjin balances the silver tray in one hand, using the other to quietly open the door. His heels tap against the floor as he enters the study. His hands are shaky as he shuts the door behind him with a soft click. Keeping his eyes and head tilted down, he returns the tray to both hands and walks to the large desk at the center of the room, praying that his master doesn’t hear the clinking of silverware with every step.

He sets the tray down on the polished mahogany, cushioning it with his pinkies and lowering it carefully. Perfect. He doesn’t dare look his master in the eye, but he does raise his gaze up to the pocket of his blazer, where a delicately folded handkerchief brandishes a regal  _ M _ .

“Will that be all, sir?” he asks quietly and clearly.

“Speak up.” The order comes cool and crisp and it sends a shiver straight down Hyunjin’s spine.

“Forgive me, sir,” he apologizes quickly. “Will that be all?”

Even without meeting his eyes, he can feel his master’s stare creeping into his skin. It trails a scorching path across every inch of his body. Hyunjin could be wearing a full suit of armor but his master always has a way of making him feel like he’s standing stark naked at an examination where a cold knife is suspended above his neck and a single wrong answer would cut the frayed string keeping him alive.

“Do you expect me to pour my own tea?” his master finally asks impatiently.

“O-of course not, sir,” Hyunjin stutters. Right away he snatches up the tea kettle, nearly spilling it in his haste. Taking a deep breath, he tilts the warm container over a porcelain tea cup. As it splashes over the floral patterning, he feels that gaze piercing straight through him, just waiting for him to make a mistake. When Hyunjin is done, not a drop is out of place.

Sighing, as if disappointed, his master reaches for the small handles and lifts the teacup to his mouth. Hyunjin allows himself to peak at the dark liquid as it graces his master’s round lips. Because of his indulgence, he catches the way those lips twist in disgust for just a brief moment before settling back to a thin line. Hyunjin swallows heavily, anticipation and dread coiling deep within his stomach.

The teacup is set beside the tray, directly on the wood of his desk with a dull thud that echoes within the blond’s heart.

“Come closer, Hyunjin,” his master demands, tone light and even.

Hyunjin obeys, tapping with timid steps to the other side of the desk that had been the only barrier between them. When he stops before polished, black dress shoes a hand reaches up to graze his cheek. It takes every ounce of Hyunjin’s willpower not to tremble as cold fingers trail down his neck and behind his ear, thread through the hair at his nape.

“You remembered that I like my tea steeped for five minutes,” his master says and it almost sounds like praise. But the image of lips curled in a scowl is imprinted firmly in Hyunjin’s mind.

“Yes, sir,” Hyunjin replies, unsure of what else to say. His brain runs at a mile a minute, trying to figure out where he went wrong. The fingers gently massaging his scalp are certainly not helping.

“You did an excellent job at preparing the tea,” his master compliments, “ _ for a dumb little whore _ .”

The previously gentle hand catches a fistful of his hair, forcing Hyunjin’s head back painfully and finally he looks his master in the eye. A whimper dies in his throat as Lee Minho glares down at him derisively. His master continues to pull at his hair and Hyunjin follows until he is kneeling at Minho’s feet, hand braced on the floor behind him.

“P-please, sir,” Hyunjin pleads, “I’m so sorry, forgive me I-”

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” his master asks seriously, bringing his face inches from the blond’s. “Or do I need to spell it out for you?”

“I… I…” Hyunjin stutters, head spinning.

“Okay, surely even you can answer this,” Minho sneers mockingly. “What temperature is tea meant to be served at? Is it cold?”

“N-no, sir,” Hyunjin answers, feeling the heat rise to his face and the tears wetting his lashes.

“No?” his master repeats with fake surprise. “Well then why the fuck would you serve it to me cold? Did you honestly expect me to drink this piss water after you’ve ruined it?”

“No, sir!” Hyunjin cries past the lump in his throat.

“What, did you get distracted by a mirror?” Minho asks, startlingly accurate. “Can you not go two seconds without primping at your reflection like a brain dead beauty queen?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer, knowing that his master isn’t expecting one anyway.

“I guess when all you’ve got are your looks, you do have to spend a little extra time maintaining them,” Minho muses. “Otherwise what use would I have for you?”

“I-I’m sorry…” Hyunjin apologizes miserably, the only thing he can say.

“Of course you are,” his master scoffs. “Just get this out of my sight and prepare something I can actually drink.”

With that he releases Hyunjin’s hair, leaving the scalp feeling tender. Now free, Hyunjin hurries to remedy his mistake. He’ll just brew a new, piping hot cup. He’ll even add one of his master’s favorite cookies. Surely then he will be pleased with Hyunjin.

As he is lifting the tea cup to return it to the tray, Minho turns his chair back around, knocking his knee directly into Hyunjin’s and sending the blond toppling down. He watches in abject horror as the lukewarm tea drips down his master’s pant leg and pools on his shiny black shoes.

He doesn’t dare raise his eyes from the liquid sliding down the sides of Minho’s foot as he listens to his master take a deep breath.

“Oh, dear Hyunjin,” he says after a moment that lasts a decade. “These shoes cost more than your entire life savings.”

“I’m so terribly sorry, sir,” Hyunjin whispers, afraid that if he raises his voice all that will come out is a sob.

“You’re sorry, you’re sorry, is that all you can say?” his master demands.

Hyunjin can’t answer.

“Don’t be sorry,” Minho says, tone adopting a more playful lilt that does not bode well for Hyunjin. “Clean it up.”

The lump in his throat is thicker than ever. His master can’t possibly mean..?

“Are you deaf as well as dumb?” Minho asks, drilling a knuckle into the side of the blond’s head. “You made a mess. Therefore, you should clean. It. Up.” The hand twisting on his head opens to grip it and force it down until he is a hair’s breadth away from the tip of his master’s shoe.

Swallowing down the shame and humiliation threatening to burst out of his chest, Hyunjin pokes out a pink tongue and tentatively takes a lick at the dripping leather. The tea is bitter and the material is rough but he is determined to lap up every drop of his mistake.

“That’s a good boy. Maybe you are useful for something. I should have been using you to clean my shoes this whole time. That’s about the only thing you seem able to do right.”

At his master’s cruel words he feels the heat rising in his neck and ears, threatening to burn him alive. When he has cleaned up the last bit of tea, Minho stops him by raising Hyunjin’s chin with the tip of his shoe. The leather digs into his soft skin, straining his neck. Hyunjin trails his gaze up long legs to meet a mean grin through his blurry vision.

“Well, there may be one more thing you can do to make yourself useful,” his master suggests lasciviously. “You are a pretty picture on your knees. Exactly where stupid sluts like you belong.”

Minho parts his legs and beckons the blond closer. Hyunjin shuffles forward on his knees until he is face to face with an impressive bulge. Gulping, he dares himself to look up at his master’s eyes again for guidance. When Minho catches him looking he snorts.

“You really can’t think for yourself, huh? Do I have to spell it out for you? Surely you’ve seen porn.” He uses a warm hand to pull Hyunjin’s face forward until he’s pressed against his master, nose embedded in his musky scent. “You’ve created another problem.  _ Fix it _ .”

Gulping, Hyunjin does as he’s asked and reaches up with his hand to pull at the zipper of his master’s dress pants. Before he can touch it, though, a foot presses down on his other hand, just this side of painful. He gasps and drops both hands back down to the floor.

“Ah, ah. I don’t want your clumsy hands pawing at me,” Minho chides.

Hyunjin obediently grabs the zipper between his teeth and drags it down slowly. After that’s done he steels himself and grabs at the waistband of Minho’s expensive boxers. His master’s heavy cock springs forward and rests at his cheek, pulsing and insistent. He cranes his neck back to see it better and finds his mouth watering at the sight. As expected, his master is well-endowed with a lengthy, veiny girth. He leans forward and flattens his tongue against the underside to feel Minho’s pulse. Tilting his head he wastes no time laving over the length, tasting every inch of it greedily. He’s not allowed this long. Soon a hand is gripping his hair so tightly it sends tingles across his head and yanking him back. His tongue is lolled out, still reaching back for the warm cock.

“It’s not a fucking lollipop, Hyunjin,” Minho scolds him in annoyance. “You won’t be getting rid of it like that.” With his other hand, his master caresses his cheek with the back of his fingers. He trails a path down his chin until his thumb is pressed against the blond’s pillowy lips. Hyunjin parts them easily, darting out his tongue to press at the rough pad as it invades his mouth. When the hand retreats, he keeps his mouth open, waiting for his master. Soon a heavy weight is resting on his tongue and the hand at his hair guides him forward until he’s practically choking. And he’s only halfway down the length.

“If you use your teeth you’ll regret it,” Minho warns, then he moves both hands away to rest at his thighs. His burning gaze sends shivers straight down Hyunjin’s body and he wants nothing more than to please his master.

Mindful of his teeth, he starts bobbing his head up and down over his master’s cock. His mouth feels so full, but he can’t stop there. With every thrust he pushes himself further down until he feels tears spring in his eyes. Finally, his master is reacting. When Hyunjin drags his eyes up he can see a tension written across his entire face. He feels incredibly blessed that he can be the one to make him feel this way. Pride swells in his chest and he’s more motivated than ever. Doubling his efforts, he starts to drool down the sides of his mouth. The saliva trails down his chin, dripping on the hardwood floor and his skirt.

Apparently it’s not enough, because firm hands are suddenly gripping the back of Hyunjin’s head, trapping him in place.

“Try not to choke,” is the only warning he gets before Minho is thrusting in his mouth all the way to the hilt. Hyunjin immediately fails, his throat tightening around the hot girth as he gags. His master has no mercy, though, starting up a brutal rhythm. And now tears are cascading down Hyunjin’s cheeks, mixing with the drool and snot as he struggles to breath. He can take it, though. If his master is satisfied he can endure anything.

“ _ Fuck yeah _ ,” Minho exhales. His master’s voice is deep and raspy, thick with pleasure.  _ He’s doing a good job _ . If his mouth weren’t stuffed to the brim, Hyunjin would smile. Instead he moans and whimpers around the cock sliding back and forth across his palette. His face and his mind are an absolute mess, his only thoughts about pleasing his master. He’s light headed and burning all the way to his toes.

“God, those lips were made for sucking dick,” Minho praises. “Too bad you’re fucking useless at anything else.” A firm shoe presses at Hyunjin’s own bulge through the soft fabric of his skirt. “Even this is useless.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen at the painful pressure and it goes from being difficult to breathe to impossible. The sensation sends shocks up and down his system, the feeling so  _ wrong _ . It makes his stomach twist and turn. He whines at his master, squirming and begging for a brief reprieve. There is no sympathy in his stare, though, when Hyunjin tries to plead with his eyes. Minho’s rhythm remains unbroken and the pressure on his weeping cock is unrelenting. Hyunjin feels tears sliding down his cheeks at his master’s abuse, his consolation being that Minho is harder than ever in his throat. When Hyunjin’s jaw slacks in exhaustion, though, his teeth lightly graze at the throbbing length in this throat and he knows he’s messed up again. The hands at his head yank him back by the hair again and Hyunjin starts viciously coughing and gasping for air. It burns at his lungs and he can still feel the ghost of a thick length pressing at the walls of his throat.

“You dumb fucking slut what did I say?” Minho growls in his face.

“Sorry, sir…” Hyunjin rasps, barely recognizing his own voice. He sounds as wrecked as he feels, and his master hasn’t even come yet.

Minho gives a long suffering sigh and Hyunjin hangs his head in shame. “Over my knee.” He pats his pant leg.

“Sir?” Hyunjin intones, twisting his fingers together in his lap.

“I said if you used your teeth there would be a punishment,” his master explains slowly, as if talking to a child. “And I’m a man of my word, so lay over my fucking lap, Hyunjin.”

The look on his face leaves no room for argument, so Hyunjin slowly rises and slides to Minho’s side. Then swallowing down any lingering reservations he leans down and lays on his front across a firm lap. He can feel his master’s still fully erect member pressed against his stomach. Meanwhile, his poor, painfully hard cock is rubbing against a strong thigh and a soft whimper sounds in the back of his throat at the small bit of stimulation.

“Good boy,” his master praises, but his voice isn’t kind. “Now surely even a bimbo like you can count to ten, right?”

Hyunjin nods, head hanging off the end of the chair. Once again he is abruptly yanked up by his hair, neck curving back until it is difficult to breathe.

“When I ask you a question I expect an answer,” Minho demands right by his ear.

“Yes, sir,” Hyunjin chokes out. He is easily released and his head bobs back down like a ragdoll. He feels like a ragdoll, just there for his master to do as he wishes.

“Your punishment will be over when you’ve counted to ten, do you understand?” Minho asks. He can feel the other lifting his skirt with a gentleness that belies his harsh words. His lacy white panties are also pulled down until they slip off of his feet entirely.

“Yes, sir,” Hyunjin repeats, anticipation boiling in the pit of his stomach.

The first slap comes without warning. In an instant his bottom is lit up in a hot, sharp flash of pain. Hyunjin can’t hold back the cry as his whole body jerks, the motion causing him to rub against Minho’s thigh again.

“Count, Hyunjin,” his master reminds sternly as he regains his senses.

“One,” Hyunjin gasps. “Thank you, sir.”

Even though he is more prepared for the second hit, Hyunjin still jumps, half rutting against the rough fabric of his master’s expensive pants.

“Two,” he groans. Slaps three through six are delivered in much the same way, every spank stoking the fire. The seventh one, though, nearly sends Hyunjin reeling straight out of Minho’s lap. He yelps out like a wounded animal, knee jerking up and banging into the chair. The dull ache in his knee is nothing compared to the absolute hellstorm that is his ass, though. He didn’t hold back, as if all the spanks before were just a warm up to get him nice and tender for the real show. After the brutal swing, his master soothes the sting with gentle rubs, but the heat from his hand just makes the burn linger.

“You were getting a bit too comfortable, Jinnie,” Minho chides. “Did you forget this was a punishment?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer, head clouded over.

“Count,” Minho scolds, painfully ruffling Hyunjin’s hair.

“Seven,” he whines softly.

“Ah, it was a lucky one,” his master chuckles coldy. After that the last three slaps feel like he’s lit with white hot fire and drowning in a frozen lake all in one. Hyunjin doesn’t dare wait to be reminded again to count, but the words only come out in tiny whimpers and groans.

“ _ Eight... Nine... Ten _ .”

When it’s over, Hyunjin is certain that he won’t be able to sit properly for a while. Even the rustle of silky fabric as Minho fixes his skirt is enough to make him wince. When his master helps him stand back up, though, he looks pleased with Hyunjin’s efforts.

“Good boy,” he praises, swiping a gentle thumb across the tear tracks on Hyunjin’s cheek. “You held out well. Maybe you even deserve a reward.”

At that, Hyunjin perks up. His master is rewarding him?

“I still have a problem here,” Minho states, reaching for the blond’s hand. When he clasps it within his own it is dragged to his master’s still impressively hard bulge. “Can you possibly think of a way we can both benefit here?”

Hyunjin worries his lip between his teeth. He knows what he wants, but does he have the right to ask for it? His master is a wealthy, successful man and Hyunjin is just a maid. Does he really deserve such an honor?

“Speak your mind,” Minho orders kindly.

“I… I want you to fuck me,” Hyunjin mumbles.

“Louder,” his master demands a bit more impatiently.

“I want you to fuck me,” he repeats more clearly.

“I knew that you were a slut,” Minho teases, pleased with Hyunjin’s answer.

Hyunjin flushes, but doesn’t deny it. He wants nothing more than his master’s thick cock pounding into him and he’s sure that every part of him is projecting that fact.

“Come here,” Minho says, patting his legs.

Hyunjin returns to his master’s lap, but this time he straddles him, curling a smooth thigh around each hip. When he settles onto his pants, though, the blond is reminded that his bottom will be tender for a good while. He’s sure it’s cherry red to match his face and his lips.

Strong hands glide over his waist, travel across his lower back to grip at his poor, abused ass and Hyunjin whines. A finger ghosts over his hole, but there is only a gentle brush before it’s gone. The hands come to rest at his hips and Hyunjin looks down at his master, waiting for his next move.

“What?” Minho asks Hyunjin's expectant face. “You didn’t really think I’d prepare you myself? That I’d stick my fingers in such a dirty place for you?”

Hyunjin swallows nervously. Surely his master isn’t so cruel to enter him raw?

“If you want to be prepped, prep yourself.” Minho opens the top right drawer and pulls out a thing of lubricant with a little picture of a strawberry on it. He takes one of Hyunjin’s hands and closes it around the thin tube. “But you best remember that I’m not a patient man,” he warns.

Quickly, Hyunjin squeezes the tube onto the finger of his other hand. The gel that comes out is faintly pink and smells sickeningly sweet. He caps the things and sets it on the desk, careful not to leave any of the sticky substance on the wood. Then he rubs his fingers together to warm the lubes up and spread it evenly.

“Some time today, Hyunjin,” his master huffs.

Without wasting any more time, Hyunjin reaches back and prods at his entrance. The first finger goes in with minimal resistance, fairly used to the sensation. He doesn’t bother teasing himself, going straight to two fingers. The second finger isn’t quite so easy, causing a small ripple of pain that is compounded by the sore, tense muscles around his hole. A breathy moan falls from his lips as he stretches to accommodate his long fingers. Soon he’s teasing at the spot that always makes him see stars. Once he’s got a good angle to it he massages it steadily, selfishly chasing his pleasure. A low, steady moan simmers in his throat as he gets himself off with long strokes of his delicate digits, forgetting his original purpose.

“I can’t see shit like this.”

A firm grip takes Hyunjin by the underside of his thighs and swivels him around until his back is resting against the edge of the desk. He gasps as his fingers slide deeper and his ass balances on the edge of his master’s legs. Minho’s hands continue to hold Hyunjin’s thighs up so that he’s on full display. The skirt covers his cock, prominent bulge creating a small wet spot, but his quivering hole just barely peeks out from beneath the fabric.

“Get to it,” Minho snaps. “And make it entertaining or I might just lose my patience and fuck you whether you’re ready or not.”

At the threat, Hyunjin starts moving his fingers again. But this time, he remembers his goal is to stretch himself out for something much bigger. He scissors his fingers, wincing and letting out little groans as his body resists the stretch. After a couple deep breaths to relax and loosen himself up, he adds a third, slick finger. His plump bottom lip is drawn between his teeth to distract from the slight burn. With his other hand, he tentatively reaches for his neglected cock. Peeking his eyes open, Hyunjin searches his master’s face for permission. Not seeing any protest, he palms at himself, just stimulating enough to be pleasurable without fear of orgasming too early.

The whole time he can feel his master’s sharp gaze flicking back and forth from his weeping hole to his face, red and scrunched up from pleasure. He’s pretty sure he could take Minho’s cock now, but he’s addicted to the rapt attention. So he continues fingering himself, stroking over his prostate and whining plaintively. He can tell Minho is getting impatient to fuck him, but he wants to drag it out a bit longer, keep those beautiful eyes captured just a  _ second _ longer.

“Did you forget that you’re meant to be serving me?” Minho finally asks, grip tightening around the blond’s thighs until he’s sure there will be finger shaped bruises. The pain only has him moaning louder. “Don’t be such a selfish brat.”

“S-sorry, sir,” Hyunjin breathes, voice raspy with pleasure. “I’m ready for you.”

“I don’t know,” Minho muses, releasing his harsh grip and instead lazily dragging his fingers up and down the tan skin before him. Of course he avoids the place Hyunjin is craving his touch the most.

“You seem to be pretty content playing with yourself,” he drawls. The featherlight touches combined with his next words send shivers up and down his entire body. “Maybe I should find another cocksleeve for tonight.”

“No!” Hyunjin cries, fingers instantly halting. “Please, master. I want to serve you,” he whines, stretching his hole out for Minho to see. “Please, I want master’s cock so bad.” Tears prick at his eyes at the thought of his master leaving him like this. He can’t bear it.

Minho smirks then, satisfied with Hyunjin’s pleading. He leans forward, hooking the blonde’s endlessly long legs over his shoulders and bending them back until they’re almost by Hyunjin’s ears. “That’s a good little whore,” he whispers inches away from the blonde’s pretty face.

The words are a little mean, but Hyunjin melts at the praise and the sweet tone. His eyes squint up as he smiles. Then he’s being hauled up by his sore ass until his back hits the hard wood of the desk top. A little yelp escapes him as he’s yanked down so he’s just slightly hanging off the edge. Minho stands to his full height, looming over him large and imposing. The anticipation is thrumming across every inch of Hyunjin’s skin. His master bats his hands away, replacing Hyunjin’s fingers with his own. They sink into his slick heat easily and Hyunjin groans, throwing his head back. Minho’s fingers aren’t as long as his, but he can explore him much easier.

“You feel amazing,” he growls, “all wet and loose for me.” The fingers are gone just as fast as they came. Hyunjin doesn’t have time to miss them, though, as something much thicker presses against his entrance. His breath hitches as the head slips in. He had prepared himself well, but he feels the stretch all the same. Fingers could never compare. From there Minho easily slides in to the hilt, filling Hyunjin deep  _ deep _ within his belly. He tosses his head back with a high pitched keen that devolves into a soft whimper. His master’s cock is stuffing him so  _ well _ he feels like he’ll burst.

“You took me so well,” Minho praises, voice deep and tense with restraint. “As expected from a worthless slut, you were built for taking dick.”

Hyunjin whines at the backhanded compliment. He covers his face with a hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed and embarrassed. It only lasts for a moment, though, before his thin wrist is pinned to the wood by his head.

“Come on, now,” Minho chides. “Your pretty face is the only good thing about you. You better not hide it from me.”

Hyunjin obliges, peering up at him through narrowed, watery eyes. Whatever his master wants from him. He sees Minho’s throat bob as he gazes down at the flustered blonde. The hand not gripping at his wrist slides to the back of his knee and forces it down until it’s laid by his other ear. He feels the stretch in his thigh, but it’s not painful or difficult and Hyunjin is deeply grateful for his flexibility in that moment. He’s thankful that it can aid in pleasing his master.

He gets no warning before Minho is setting a brutal pace. His hips imprint their shape on Hyunjin’s bruised ass in a steady, staccatoed rhythm. Every thrust forces the air out of his lungs in wanton gasps. He can feel his back scraping against the rough grain of the wood in equal parts discomfort and pleasure. Every tingling sensation is culminating in mindblowing satisfaction as his master uses his body against the desk.

Hyunjin feels tense at every muscle as he chases every stimulation. He tightens around Minho’s hot length just to feel every bump and vein sliding against his walls. His head is tossed back, blond locks splayed around him in a halo as he cries out shamelessly.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Minho groans. He moves his hands from their spots at Hyunjin’s wrist and knee to hold his hips still instead, to trap him in place as he mercilessly drills into him. “Hold still and let me use you properly.” 

Now Hyunjin is no longer sliding along the desk with every thrust. He’s forced to stay put and take it full force and it brings Minho so much deeper within him until he’s sure he can feel his cock deep in his stomach.

His thrusts slow to impossibly powerful swings every few seconds, giving Hyunjin a moment’s reprieve between stabs of pleasure and pain. With each cant of Minho’s hips he moans, high-pitched and breathless.

“You’re doing so well, such a good little bimbo,” his master praises, smiling down at the blond’s hazy eyes. Hyunjin smiles back, glowing under the praise. He squirms a bit, arching his back and trying to find the best angle for his master’s satisfaction. “Don’t try so hard,” Minho chides gently. “I can get us both off just fine without you wasting your precious brain cells and energy. You just have to lie there and take it.” He leans forward and gives Hyunjin a harsh pat on the check. “Think you can do that?”

Hyunjin nods rapidly, licking his lips and reveling in the way his master’s eyes trace the motion.

Minho pulls out and Hyunjin immediately whines in distress, hole clenching around the empty space left behind. His master quickly shushes him and turns the blond over onto his stomach. Hyunjin goes easily, malleable to his master’s touch. He settles with his chest resting on the rough wood and his hands clenched on either side of his head in loose fists. Like this he has to stand on the tips of his toes to keep his ass perfectly level with Minho’s hips. Once relatively comfortable, he turns his head back and gives his master a pleading look. To emphasize how badly he’s aching to be filled again he shifts his hips a bit until his ass sways invitingly.

Minho chuckles. “Is the little slut that desperate to be filled?” He punctuates his question with a harsh slap to Hyunjin’s poor abused cheeks.

Hyunjin yelps, legs shaking. “P-please master. Want to serve you. Want to make you feel good.”

“That’s right,” Minho agrees. A hand slides up his spine, ghost over his neck, and tangles itself in his hair. It forces his head down until his cheek is pressed firmly against the cold desk top and he can’t look back anymore. “This is all you’re good for, my dumb little cock warmer.”

With that he slides home again and Hyunjin feels complete. The pace in this position is more erratic. Minho isn’t keeping a rhythm, he’s mindlessly chasing pleasure in Hyunjin’s more than willing body. Hyunjin’s legs tremble, barely holding him up. A pool of drool starts to collect on the wood by his mouth, which is hanging open in an endless stream of shattered moans and gasps.

He feels a heavy weight settle against his back and a muscular forearm appears in his vision. A hand comes to grasp at his throat, cutting off his voice with a choked whimper. “Sluts are meant to be seen, not heard,” a voice snarls right into his ear, breath hot and wet. Like this he can feel Minho completely enveloping him, making him feel so small and fragile.

As his air is steadily cut off, he tightens around Minho and Minho tightens around his throat. Soon he’s getting lightheaded, feeling like he’s floating as his body bangs against the desk with every thrust. Just as Hyunjin starts to see spots in his vision, the pressure is released and precious oxygen floods through his system again, creating a totally different kind of high where every sensation is heightened instead of blurred. It’s such a sharp contrast that it has Hyunjin’s addled mind reeling and his body singing. He feels so weak, completely at his master’s mercy as he pounds into him so hard the desk is shaking. Every thrust drives him further and further up the cliff, delightful pressure mounting in his belly as his body calls for release.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Minho groans emphatically straight into Hyunjin’s neck and the blond can’t hold it anymore. He hurtles straight over the cliff, pleasure washing over him in crashing waves that threaten to drown him. He releases all over the expensive wood of the desk, splattering the excess onto the floor. His master uses him just a bit longer, until Hyunjin is squirming and whining at the overstimulation before seating himself fully and releasing his own load straight into Hyunjin’s pliant body. Hyunjin feels the warm wetness seeping into him and dripping down the sides of Minho’s cock and groans in satisfaction, happy he could please his master.

Afterward, Minho pulls out carefully, though it’s pointless as his cum immediately starts dribbling onto the floor. He groans. “Dammit. Dad’s gonna kill me.”

“Deal with it later,” Hyunjin sighs, still leaning on the desk, blissed out and sleepy.

“You’re wearing the maid costume, you should be cleaning this up,” Minho points out, staring at the mess they made forlornly.

“I don’t think so,” Hyunjin huffs. “You fucked any level of productivity straight out of me.”

“Brat,” Minho snarks affectionately. He ruffles the blond’s hair gently, soothing his scalp where it had been abused. “Fine, we’ll deal with it later.”

“Yay~” Hyunjin cheers wearily. Before he can fully doze off, he’s being lifted into very strong, secure arms tucked under his shoulders and his knees. Minho carefully carries him out of the office and down the hall, straight to a soft, fluffy, king-sized bed.

“You know, next time I could be the young master,” Hyunjin suggests casually.

“What, looking to get knocked down a peg by the pool boy or something?”

“Hey, I could be the one showing you some discipline.”

“Pfft. Whatever you say, Princess.”

“Hyung~”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I did not expect my first smut in the SKZ fandom to be HyunHo but they've been so loud these days.
> 
> Come be thirsty with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NarcissNarwhal)!


End file.
